


All Those Little Things

by Codango



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Concerts, Crystals, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Flirting, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Moving On, POV Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Protective Luka Couffaine, Unrequited Crush, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 13:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: Marinette paused, cereal spoon halfway to her open mouth.Sabine Cheng was hanging a rose quartz in the kitchen’s eastern window. It seemed to wink at Marinette in the pink morning light. Sabine smiled at the crystal fondly as it spun from its gold chain.Marinette was used to her mother quietly setting out a crystal or tucking a certain-colored piece of ribbon into a pocket or lighting a candle here instead of there. It was commonplace, like her father starting the ovens downstairs at 4:00 a.m.So perhaps understandably, Sabine looked surprised when she turned from the window and caught Marinette staring.“What’s that one for?”





	All Those Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> Per my usual, there is zero plan. There is a *vague* plan. Certainly not much more than that.

Marinette paused, cereal spoon halfway to her open mouth.

Sabine Cheng was hanging a rose quartz in the kitchen’s eastern window. It seemed to wink at Marinette in the pink morning light. Sabine smiled at the crystal fondly as it spun from its gold chain.

Marinette was used to her mother quietly setting out a crystal or tucking a certain-colored piece of ribbon into a pocket or lighting a candle here instead of there. It was commonplace, like her father starting the ovens downstairs at 4:00 a.m.

So perhaps understandably, Sabine looked surprised when she turned from the window and caught Marinette staring.

“What’s that one for?” Marinette asked, making a show of going back to her cereal. Casual, not at all curious about this thing that, for some reason this morning, felt intensely personal and…like something she needed to ask about.

Sabine poured herself a fresh tea. “Nothing special. Just more of what I usually try to focus on.”

“Mmm?” Marinette prompted.

Sabine shot her a glance that said she could see right through her nonchalance. “Oh, everything I want for my family, I suppose. Peace, good fortune, a connection to the feminine…warmth. Love.” She sipped her tea, then laughed. “You know, all those little things.”

“Love?” Marinette eyed the quartz. She could just imagine Alya in her head: _Girl, do not go asking rocks to do things you can’t do yourself._ Not that Alya was ever dismissive of Sabine’s little hints of witchiness. But she would definitely suggest that maybe Marinette could actually ask her crush out before turning to spells.

Sabine may have been having similar thoughts. She set down her teacup and frowned. “Not specifically romantic love,” she said with some seriousness. “Unconditional love. Beyond what you want for yourself. It’s…” She glanced over at the pink crystal, twirling in the morning sun. “Allowing the goodness in you to encourage the goodness in others. And vice versa.”

“Oh.” Just as well. Marinette was trying, honestly, to get over Adrien. He’d said he was in love with someone else, and she’d seen the way Kagami looked at him.

Sabine was quiet for a minute. Then she began clearing her own breakfast things. “All right, I’m going downstairs to pipe some petit fours. You need anything before you head to school?”

A heart that was completely over Adrien Agreste? Marinette looked at the little quartz and sighed. She shook her head.

Sabine paused on her way toward the stairs that led down to the boulangerie. “Honey?”

Marinette looked up.

“Take the quartz today.” Sabine smiled. “Let it soak up the sun while you finish getting ready, but wear it to school if you like.”

Every hair on Marinette’s skin stood up. _Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea_, each goosebump seemed to say. “Is, um, the sun doing something important?” she asked, mostly to play it cool.

Sabine’s grin was closemouthed and definitely witchy. “Halloween’s in two weeks. You know how I get.”

* * *

Halloween was indeed in two weeks. Collège Françoise Dupont was in a mild uproar about parties and who had to babysit trick-or-treaters and what costumes would be recognizable but also unique and attractive.

Chloe was going on about some celebrity’s masquerade ball she’d been invited to; Juleka and Rose were excited about a midnight show Kitty Section was playing; Nathaniel and Alix were competing in a cosplay contest; and Max had been invited to an all-night gamers’ tournament.

“What are you doing for Halloween, Adrien?” Lila asked sweetly after chemistry had been dismissed.

“He’s coming with me to Clara Nightingale’s party, of course!” Chloe swept up to his side and looped her arm through his.

Marinette’s stomach turned. Adrien couldn’t be in love with Chloe Bourgeois…could he?

“Is he?” Lila was unfazed. She took his other arm. “Maybe he’d like to come to Jagged Stone’s Monster Mash with me instead. Did I tell you he sent me tickets, Adrien?”

Adrien laughed, as usual the picture of grace as he navigated a tricky situation. “Those both sound wonderful, but—”

Marinette’s heart swept to her throat. _But I’m going to ask Marinette out instead_, and if that happened, she’d wear rose quartz for the rest of her life.

“—Kagami asked me to go to Kitty Section’s show that night.”

Marinette’s heart plunged into her stomach.

“I already said yes—”

Marinette stayed in her seat as most of the class filed out for lunch. She pretended to sort through her book bag, mostly to make sure she wasn’t going to cry.

And she wasn’t, she realized. She felt a little sick, but not terribly surprised and—

“You okay, girl?”

Marinette jumped. Ah yes, she hadn’t let Alya slide out of their bench.

“Good. Great. Fine.” Marinette looped her bag over her shoulder.

Alya was absolutely not fooled. “Honey…”

“What are you and Nino doing for Halloween?” Marinette asked quickly. Not that Alya would say _I told you so_, but she had every right to, and Marinette didn’t want to blurt that out herself.

Alya gave her a knowing look but played along. “Taking the twins trick-or-treating. They’re dressing up as their akuma’d selves.”

“Whoa.” Marinette stared at her friend. “You’re, ah, okay with that?” That had been a rough night for everyone, but she couldn’t imagine that watching your two little toddler sisters run around Paris at the mercy of Hawkmoth was, you know, without its trauma.

Alya shrugged and grinned. “They’ve been a lot less awful since then. Maybe I should send Hawkmoth a thank-you note.”

“Please no.”

“Ooo, a half dozen macarons from Boulangerie Dupain-Cheng!”

“I refuse to allow my parents’ life craft to be wasted on a literal villain.”

“Do you think he likes pumpkin spice or creme brûlée better?”

“Alya!” Marinette laughed, then slid out of their bench. “Pumpkin spice if he has any taste at all. We only carry them for two months.”

Alya followed her out of the classroom. “Hey, you wanna dress up with us and go trick-or-treating? The twins would love it.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Would Nino? Isn’t that kind of like a date for you two?”

Alya shoved her playfully. “Nino’s your friend, too. He’d love it if you joined us. And we’re going to Kitty Section’s show later, so that’s our Halloween date, not dragging my sisters around.”

“O-oh.”

Alya winced. “I didn’t mean that. You can come with us to the show, too, you know that.”

Marinette opened her mouth to say something—lie that she had plans, pretend insult at being a third wheel, or just give up and say _yes, thank you, please_, already—when a soft, “Um? Marinette?” came from near her shoulder.

Rose and Juleka had clearly been waiting just outside the classroom door. The rest of the students were already filtering out from the locker room with their lunches or were heading out to grab a quick bite from nearby carts.

“Are you crazy busy right now?” Rose asked quickly.

Marinette looked around the open-floor gymnasium that separated the locker rooms from the classrooms. “I was going to get my lunch, but—”

“She means for like the next two weeks,” Juleka clarified.

“Kitty Section needs new costumes for our Halloween show!” Rose bounced up and down, huge eyes even larger than normal.

“I kept saying we should ask you sooner,” Juleka went on, “but we didn’t have the budget, and Luka said we had to pay you a real fee—”

“And we were always going to!” Rose seemed a little annoyed at the suggestion that anyone would assume otherwise.

“—but then Mom said the band got an anonymous donation.” Juleka offered one of her small smiles at the thought. “So it’s cool.”

“And now we’re so _late_,” Rose fretted. “But if you have any time at all, we’ll take whatever you can put together?”

“I’m sure I can make something happen!” Marinette laughed. “You know I love working with Kitty Section. You guys always just get what I’m trying to do.”

“You get _us_, Marinette,” Juleka said. “That’s why we keep coming back.”

“Oo, oo, stop by practice tonight!” Rose squealed. “We’ve got some new material, maybe it’ll inspire something for you?”

“Still 6:30 on the boat?” Marinette said.

“Yup.” Juleka steered Rose away, presumably to their own lunch. “Mom’s promised to make us pizza, too.”

“Then I’ll definitely be there,” Marinette teased. She turned to find Alya regarding her with raised eyebrow and folded arms. “What?”

“Maybe I should be asking _you _for the Halloween hookup.” Alya nudged her with an elbow, then turned to the cafeteria. “How do I forget you’ve got the in with all my favorite bands?”

“They’re your classmates, too.”

“Has Jagged Stone asked you to do something for his Halloween show, too?”

“He has real designers most of the time,” Marinette said, waving a hand.

“That’s not a no.”

“No!” She swatted Alya’s shoulder. “No, and in case you didn’t notice, I am still boring and alone for Halloween, despite my cool hookups, so please do not forget that you promised to hang out with me.”

“Honey. I would never.”

* * *

Ten after six. Marinette was trying not to watch the clock but also kind of watch it a little. She owed it to her parents to be attentive to customers and focused on the job while she helped behind the counter in the boulangerie. But she also didn’t want to miss a second of Kitty Section’s practice tonight. Two weeks till Halloween, and she had to deliver new costumes? She needed all the inspiration she could get.

She touched the rose quartz resting against her chest. A paid gig with one of her favorite bands—she should probably remember to thank her mother for the crystal today.

She’d be off the clock at quarter after. Just five more minutes…

The bell over the door chimed. She looked up from setting out a small tray of éclairs. “Good evening! What can I—”

Luka’s smile was small and soft. “Hi, Marinette.”

Marinette’s professional facade slipped before she could catch herself. “Hi!” _Too bright. Too chirpy. _Her hand went to the crystal at her throat.

He walked into the shop, lanky and so tall, his bike helmet under one long arm. With his free hand, he swept back teal-tipped dark hair. The gauges in his ears winked in the golden shop lights, and his nails were freshly painted black…

_What? Stop it, no, we’re not doing this about someone new, are you kidding? _She gave the crystal a firm pat, imagining her fresh resolve sinking into the little stone.

“Couldn’t wait to see me?” she teased. And instantly wanted to slap a hand over her mouth. This was why she fell apart around Adrien so often, her mouth was faster than her brain.

Luka just laughed and came up to the counter she was working behind. _So tall. _“Juleka told me you were coming to practice. I told her if she and Rose didn’t ask you at school, I was going to send you a message myself.” He smiled down at her. “I’m so glad you have time for us.”

Marinette flapped a hand dismissively. “Pff! I’m flattered. Anything for my favorite band.” _Your favorite band? Laying it on a bit thick?_

He beamed, as if genuinely surprised. “Does Jagged Stone know he’s been replaced?”

“I haven’t found the words to let him down gently yet.”

The bell chimed over the door again, mixing with Luka’s laughter. A thin man in a tailored suit strode inside, and Marinette’s cheer sank into the floor of the shop. Monsieur Delsarte, one of the mayor’s counselors, came in at least once a week and always made some passive-aggressive comment about the quality of the selection. He bought something every time, though, and her father said that was what mattered in the end.

Luka's smile faltered and he glanced over his shoulder.

_You are so obvious, Dupain-Cheng! _“Good evening, monsieur, is there—”

“You have a customer in front of you, Marinette,” Delsarte said shortly. He walked over to a shelf of artisan loaves, his back to her.

Luka narrowed his eyes at him.

Marinette reached out and tapped his hand. When he looked at her, she rolled her eyes and shrugged.

His smile was back immediately, if a bit less open. “I just wanted to pick up some macarons for us tonight. It seems like a special occasion.”

That was too sweet. Marinette couldn’t help but smile back. “We here at Boulangerie Dupain-Cheng stand by the scientific theory that sugar is very inspiring for the arts.”

Did she hear a scoff from Delsarte?

“I would never go against the scientific theory of a baker.”

“Senior classmen are so wise.” She produced a box from under the counter with a flourish. “How many can I get for you?”

“Half dozen? Two hazelnut, and then surprise me, madam.” He bowed.

There was a _definite _snort from Delsarte. Marinette shot him a glance. Sure enough, he was glowering at them, a loaf of bread in hand, Italian shoe tapping the tiled floor. Marinette cleared her throat and wrapped up six macarons as quickly as she could. If she could get Luka on his way before Delsarte did anything more embarrassing…

“And the discount for half a dozen,” she said cheerily, totaling the order.

Luka already had his wallet in hand. “Also, I thought I’d offer you a lift, if the timing worked out? Juleka said you wanted to be there for the whole thing.” Blue eyes met hers.

“Oh! Um…” _Yes, say yes. It’s a ride on a bike, it’s not like he’s asked you to—_

“Mademoiselle, I can take my business to another shop,” Delsarte interrupted.

Marinette gaped at him. She had _asked him _if he needed—

“We are nearly done, monsieur.” Luka stood tall as he addressed the counselor. “And the bread here is worth the wait.” He turned back to her with a wink Delsarte couldn’t see.

“It is a daily baguette, young man, one I could get anywhere. And elsewhere, I wouldn’t have to suffer through the childish flirting of a counter girl and the disrespect of a disenfranchised youth who is confused about who wears earrings and nail polish in this society.”

There were entirely too many things in that comment that made Marinette’s ears turn red. Luka’s face turned thunderous, and his hand flattened on the counter as if he was about to whirl around and say, oh god only knew what to Delsarte.

Marinette laid her hand on his. “There is no need for that, monsieur. Please look around the shop while I complete this order.” She looked straight into Luka’s eyes. “I’d love a ride. I’ll only be a few minutes, if you don’t mind.”

He smirked at her and relaxed, leaning into the counter. “I have all the time in the world,” he said. His voice went low and smooth, and Marinette knew he’d done that for the counselor’s benefit, but _wow_.

“Well, I certainly do not,” Delsarte barked. “I suppose I should tell your father you’re encouraging liaisons while in his place of business, Marinette.”

Marinette had never realized _liaison _could be a word that suggested so many things. Her face was bright pink, she was certain.

“Monsieur.” Luka did turn to face him, but his hand gripped Marinette’s tightly. “If your time is precious, you mentioned you could take your business elsewhere.”

Delsarte was not as tall as Luka, and he seemed to realize this. An indignant flush spread under his glasses. “This is my usual boulangerie. I see no reason to deviate from a routine that is convenient for me simply because you would prefer to hinder the economy.” He scanned Luka from head to toe with distaste. “My god, young man. You wear a _hoodie _to pitch woo?”

Luka glanced down at himself and smoothed his free hand over his jacket.

“The baguette is free this evening, Monsieur Delsarte,” Marinette blurted out. “And I will be discussing this with my father.” She fairly steamed. “He will be interested in a patron repeatedly insulting the appearance of another.” And because the last poke at Luka’s clothes was really just _beyond_, she emphasized, “Particularly a very close friend of the family.”

“Marinette—” Luka began.

“I am perfectly capable of paying for my—”

“Will that be all, monsieur?” she asked archly.

Delsarte looked ready to continue his protest, but just then, Marinette noticed the looming silhouette of her father through the shop’s frosted front door. And when Tom Dupain walked in, head and shoulders above everyone else in the shop and twice as wide, Delsarte’s mouth snapped shut.

Luka pulled his shoulders back. Tugged on the hem of his jacket. He did not let go of her hand behind him on the counter.

Marinette looked at the ceiling and thought, _Shit_.

Tom was a large-hearted man, not particularly adept at parsing delicate situations all in one go. “Marinette!” His voice was a delighted roar, rattling the glass cases. “Who is your friend? Good evening, Monsieur Delsarte,” he said, a total afterthought.

Delsarte narrowed his eyes at Marinette. “A close family friend, I believe you said he was, mademoiselle? Monsieur Dupain, I must say it’s telling the manner of clientele the boulangerie is attracting these days. There was a time when you could depend on meeting Parisians dressed in the best labels here, and now I find street rats with dirty fingernails and enormous holes in their ears propositioning your daughter.” He warmed to his subject and glared at Tom over his glasses. “Your father,” he intoned, “would be appalled.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Tom focused on Delsarte. Then he slowly looked toward the counter, where Luka stood tall and silent and _still _held Marinette’s hand.

“Oh yes, I’m so sorry,” Tom said at last. He smiled at Luka, too broad and too friendly. “You’re Marinette’s new boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Luka sucked in a breath, Marinette’s face was _on fire_, and Delsarte looked like he’d eaten a dessert bread with undissolved baking soda.

“Sorry I’m late to relieve your shift, sweetheart, my meeting with our flour supplier ran late.” Tom walked up to the counter, leaned over, and planted a kiss on her forehead. He put a meaty hand on Luka’s shoulder. Marinette saw Luka stagger a little from the weight of it, but he straightened again in no time. “Not holding you up, am I…son?”

“Not at all, Monsieur Dupain.” Luka smiled easily up at Tom, as if he were trapped into relationships every day. “We were just headed to my band’s practice. Marinette’s designing new costumes for us.” He looked at her with a very excellent approximation of pride. Marinette’s breath caught.

“And we are _so late _now, my goodness.” She wriggled her hand free of Luka’s grip and shoved the box of macarons at him. “I just need to get my coat, Luka—” she enunciated his name carefully “—and then we can get right there.”

“A band!” Tom’s eyes lit up. “You have…a band that I definitely remember you telling me about. The last time we met. Luka.”

Luka laughed. “We’re called Kitty Section, I don’t know if I said last time.”

“Kitty Section!” Tom bellowed. “Marinette made masks for you a while ago! Isn’t she the most talented girl you’ve ever met?” He beamed at her as she darted to the back of the shop.

“I’ll just be a second!” she called, hoping to spare Luka that line of questioning.

“She certainly meets all of her projects with style,” Luka agreed.

She paused with her hand on the knob for the door that led to her family’s private quarters behind the shop. She looked back—did he mean that?

Delsarte was still in the shop, grandly ignored by the other two. He stared at Tom and Luka, mouth open, disbelief clear on his face. When he caught her eye, he huffed and turned sharply away, stalking out the door.

* * *

Luka didn’t stop laughing the entire bike ride to his mom’s boat.

“I still don’t know what that entire display was _for_,” Marinette groused when he pulled up to the dock. His abs twitched under her hands as he stood from the bike to let her get off. “Everyone knew everyone was lying!” She groaned. “And Dad is the worst liar ever.”

“Not a horrible quality, really,” Luka said, still smiling. He walked the bike along the dock and lifted it over the side of the _Liberté_.

Marinette took the hand he offered and stepped onto the slightly tilting deck. “Why did any of us feel the need to justify ourselves to Monsieur Delsarte, of all people?” She felt a little silly, getting caught up in it. At least Luka seemed to think it was all an entertaining joke. She would feel more humiliated if he seemed at all embarrassed.

He gave her a thoughtful look, then walked his bike over to a pipe in the decking with a bike lock looped around it. “I wonder if it was more about letting him know we all thought he was ridiculous, more than justifying ourselves.”

Marinette blinked. “How do you mean?”

“Your dad probably knows he can’t lie.” Luka chuckled again. “If I had to guess, it almost seemed like he was trying to be bad at it. But he probably doesn’t want to tell a regular patron to behave himself. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“No,” she agreed slowly.

“Much easier to let Delsarte come to his own conclusion that he was only making himself look stupid. And—” he flashed her a smile from where he knelt at his bike “—it is a very French way of solving a conflict.”

“What, making someone think they’re stupid?” she asked, feeling her humor come back.

“Mmm, more like pretending there was never a problem in the first place?” He walked back toward her, a confident lope to his stride, blue eyes soft under the glowing Parisian autumn sky. “La la, Marinette, did you think there was a _problem_?” He gasped. “Did Monsieur Delsarte try to make the insult? Try to make us feel like the stupid small children?”

She giggled—_giggled_—and put a hand on one hip, put the other to her chest in an exaggerated fashion. “Monsieur Delsarte, do you not recognize the very serious label my boyfriend is wearing? I am the shock.”

Luka snapped the lapels of the jacket he wore over his hoodie which was over a rock T-shirt. It was a unique layering choice, she could admit, but it suited him. “Only the most important Parisians shop at Thripht and Mano Segundo.”

“What, do you not travel by bicycle everywhere, monsieur? Tsk. Your private car’s carbon emissions are simply too out of date.”

“Of course…” he bowed and held out one elbow, the box of macarons in the other “…the patrons of Boulangerie Dupain-Cheng know all these things.”

She took his arm and flipped one of her pigtails. “Someone should gently try to update the poor man.”

“Take him aside…” Luka led them over to a door that opened into the ship’s bridge “…and suggest that maybe he not condescend at people in bakeries anymore. Watch your head,” he said in his normal voice, “the stairs down have a low beam.”

“Maybe I’ll send him a box of nail polish and earrings. I really think the low ceiling is more of a you problem than a me problem,” she commented, following him down into his family’s living area in the belly of the ship.

“I’m used to ducking.” He looked back up at her. Two steps below her, his head came to her shoulders. “Speaking of jewelry.” His eyes darted to her neck. “I meant to say I like your necklace,” he said with his usual small smile.

The stairs were dimly lit and the space was narrow. He never spoke very loudly, but here his voice seemed pitched for her ears only.

So naturally, her mouth unhinged.

“Oh! It’s, um, it’s not really mine. I mean, it’s my mother’s? She’s really into crystals and stuff. Not that I think that’s weird! But she said I should wear it today, and I don’t know what it’s supposed to do really, but it’s pretty, right? Well, you said you liked it, so you must think so. And it can’t hurt, so I figured—”

Luka’s laugh was soft. “If it makes you feel better…” He reached into his T-shirt collar and pulled out a thin gold chain. A small, teal-colored stone hung from it. Of course it was teal. Everything about him was teal.

“I like the color,” was all Marinette could think to say.

“Me, too.” He said it simply and dropped the chain back underneath his shirt. Marinette followed the motion with her eyes, even though she supposed she probably shouldn’t.

“Luka?” Rose’s sweet voice wafted from the bottom of the stairs, and then her blond head poked through the doorway. “Oh, you are here! And Marinette, hi!”

“Sorry, sorry, we’re coming.” Luka moved quickly down the remaining steps, tugging Marinette along. At some point, she’d dropped his arm and simply taken his hand.

In the Couffaines’ cozy living space, the noise escalated quickly as Luka, Juleka, Rose, and Ivan began practice with surprising efficiency. It was obvious that they had fun together, but they were clearly here to get work done. Marinette settled herself onto a bean bag and opened her bag to get out her sketchbook and favorite pencils.

“Here’s the set list we’re thinking for the Halloween show.” Luka handed Marinette a scrap of paper. “We probably won’t get through all of them tonight, but maybe there’s something for you to be inspired by.” He grinned down at her. “Not that I think you particularly need help.”

She smiled up at him, murmured a thank-you, and forced herself not to watch him go back to the others. He was always so at ease, but still confident and ready for anything. There was a calm energy around him, but he wasn’t laid-back, not exactly. Life certainly wasn’t just _happening _to him.

He probably wouldn’t waste a year pining for someone who was perfectly nice but had never shown any indication they thought about him at all.

He probably would have at least had the guts to frickin’ confess, if nothing else.

She wondered about the crystal on his necklace. She wondered if she could describe it enough to her mother to figure out what it was.


End file.
